


Buying Stars

by lovely_laurent



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sugar Daddy, Childhood Trauma, M/M, Past Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-14
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-02 11:50:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12726099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovely_laurent/pseuds/lovely_laurent
Summary: Down on his luck, Damen decides to find a sugar daddy. He finds it in Laurent, a self-proclaimed “cast-iron bitch”, who has more issues than Damen realizes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> SO i will never at any point depict the traumatic event that happened to Laurent and nicaise it's only the aftermath. but general tw for childhood sexual abuse  
> for updates in between posts im on tumblr @lovely-laurent!

**_All my life I’ve been so lonely_ ** ****_  
_ **_All in the name of being holy_ ** ****_  
_ **_Still, you’d like to think you know me_ ** **_  
_ ** ******_You keep buyin’ stars_**

\- Marina and the Diamonds “Buy The Stars”

 

It was Jokaste’s idea, really. She’d said it absently, teasingly, before breaking up with Damen to be with his brother, Kastor.

“Just get a sugar daddy!” she’d said, tired of hearing Damen’s woes of financial mayhem. And really, it was mayhem. His father had just died, and the costs of the funeral and the thousands in hospital bills leading up to it had dried his finances completely. Anything he’d saved over the years, was gone.

So he went online. He wasn’t exactly sure what to look for, but then again, he’d be fine with just about anyone who was willing to spend a little money to give Damen what he needed. Even if he had to sleep for it. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

His picture had gotten hundreds of hits, and plenty of replies on a random sugar daddy website. But one stuck out.

It was from a guy named Laurent de Vere. He was young, to Damen’s surprise, and actually _extremely_ attractive. Even more to Damen’s surprise.

His email stated that he needed someone to attend parties with, someone who would be under his arm and smile and act reasonable during events, and in return, he’d buy Damen whatever he wanted. The only stipulation? No sex.

That hardly seemed like a problem in Damen’s mind. He sent an email back, accepting graciously.

\--

“You know you don’t need to do this,” said Nikandros, cautiously, as if afraid to piss of Damen or say something offensive.

Damen frowned and stared at his coffee cup. Nikandros had bought them both coffee, knowing Damen couldn’t afford it, which of course led to him confessing about finding a sugar daddy. This almost made him spit out of coffee in surprise. “I know,” he said, “But I want to.”

“You’re willing to sleep with some old guy to get a new guitar?”

Damen rolled his eyes. “First of all, he’s not old. He’s younger than I am.”

“So you’re taking advantage of some poor, young, rich kid?” Nikandros’ eyebrows shot up to his hairline.

“No,” Damen replied, scowling at his friend. “Second of all, it’s not just for a new guitar. It’s for everything. You know I can barely afford my bills. Thirdly, he said no sex. I just attend parties and events with him.”

Nikandros sighed. “So it’s like a fake dating scheme?”

“No,” Damen shook his head, “It’s more like.... An escort service.”

He rolled his eyes so hard Damen thought they’d fall out of his head.

“It’s not too late to back down, you know,” Nikandros said. His voice was soft and careful, like one might use to approach a wild animal.

“But it is,” Damen argued, “I already agreed to meet him. And even if I hadn’t, I really want to do this.”

Nikandros just sighed and shook his head.

\--

The first meeting with Laurent had been at a coffee shop downtown.  Damen had only communicated with Laurent via email, and even then, they hadn’t talked much. After Damen accepted the offer, he received an address to a tiny cafe and was told to meet him there. Despite how Damen replied, he got nothing back from Laurent.

But Laurent had an account on that website, with one picture uploaded, enough to show that he was, assuming it was actually him, a decent looking young man. He had sharp cheekbones and buttercup blond hair, with blue eyes that pierced Damen even through the computer screen. He wasn’t smiling in the picture, it was just a plain-faced selfie. His profile also mentioned that he was twenty years old, which made Damen wonder why on earth someone so young was willing to put himself in position of sugar daddy. Weren’t kids his age looking forward to being sugar _baby_?

Thousands of reasons raked through Damen’s imagination. Maybe he was bad at making friends, worse at dating. Maybe he was in a pinch, and needed a fake boyfriend, asap, and this really was a fake dating scheme like Nikandros suggested.  Maybe he was a total ass, and no one else would accompany him to events.

Damen scanned the cafe for the blond head and sharp cheekbones he’d seen in the photo. It was easy to pick him out, and Damen found him sitting in the corner with a book and an iced coffee. He was even more handsome in person.

He had lovely hair that Damen found himself wanting to rake his hands through, and fair skin without a single blemish or flaw. And sharp cheekbones that framed his round face. He was exactly Damen’s type. This agreement -- no sex, that is -- suddenly seemed like a horrible, horrible idea.

“Hello,” he said as he stepped up to Laurent’s table. “Laurent de Vere, right?”

“Yes,” he said cooly, setting his book down in exchange for looking up at Damen. “I see you’ve found me.”

“You told me to meet you here.”

“I was half hoping you’d get lost,” he said, bringing his iced coffee to his lips to sip. His expression was cool and careless.

Damen raised an eyebrow at him, not sure what his game was. He took a seat across from him, which caused Laurent to tilt his head.

“What? No coffee?” he asked.

“I can’t….afford it,” Damen confessed bitterly.

This caused Laurent to reach into his pocket and pull out his wallet. He handed Damen a bill and waved him off with a dismissive gesture. “Get whatever you like.”

“Are you--”

“Yes,” he interrupted, “I’m sure.”

Damen sat awkwardly for a moment, looking down at the large bill and feeling uncomfortable. He felt, for a second, like he’d back out, and another second, like taking the bill and running. But in the end, he got up, bought a coffee, and returned to give Laurent the change.

Laurent watched him with the same intensity that one might watch paint dry. His eyes were glittering with thought, but the rest of his expression remained neutral and untelling.

It was Damen who spoke first. “So...You need someone to attend events with you,” he said, tapping his fingers along the table in a fit of discomfort.

“Yes. You will attend all sorts of events with me. I assume you know how to behave in respectable company?”

Damen rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

“Perfect. You will be presented as my boyfriend, then, and in return, I will spoil you in gifts.” Laurent took another sip of his coffee. “When you want something, you will send me an email stating what it is you want, and I will pay for it.”

Damen frowned. So this was just a fake dating scheme. Nikandros was right. “That’s fine.”

Laurent looked at him intently, eyes narrowing in thought. His eyes were piercing, like a knife. It made Damen shrink under their gaze. “You really are terrible at hiding your displeasure,” Laurent eventually said.

It took all Damen’s might to clear his face of an expression. “What do you mean?” he asked.

He could see Laurent physically restrain the roll of his eyes. “We’re going to meet again on Friday. I will pick you up, and you will join me at a party. This is the kind of event where you’ll need your best suit. Understood?”

“Understood,” Damen agreed, and then a realization dawned on him. He felt his face twist in displeasure, lips curling downward in a frown.

“What? Not a fan of high class events?”

“That isn’t is,” Damen said, knowing it was far too late to pretend nothing was the matter.

“Well? Out with it.”

“Well,” Damen said, biting his lip, “I don’t own a suit anymore.”

A look of disdain came across his face, as if he’d been looking at something that he didn’t particularly like. And that something was Damen. “What happened to your suit?”

“I sold it,” he confessed, thinking back to when his father was in the hospital, and he was scrambling to get any bit of money together.

“Why on earth would you do that?” Laurent asked, and Damen could see the recoil before he could cover it up.

“My father was sick,” he started, “And I needed money. I didn’t wear my suit, so… I sold it.”

Laurent’s expression softened to something understanding and cool. “I see. Well, I will just have to buy you a new suit.”

Damen was taken by surprise. He knew what he signed up for, but it didn’t soften the blow of being bought new things by someone he didn’t know. It was a strange feeling, but Laurent was already taking out his phone, and soon after, Damen’s was buzzing. He took it out to see a text from Laurent, stating an address.

“Go there and tell them it’s on my tab. They probably won’t believe you, in which case, tell them to call me.”

Damen blinked. “And you’re sure this is okay?”

“Well I certainly can’t have you showing up like you are now.”

Damen scowled, thinking how unfortunate it was that someone with such a foul personality could be so good looking. “Well, if you insist it’s alright, then I’m for it.”

“Good, then it’s settled,” Laurent said, drumming his fingers along his coffee cup. “You may go. We’ll meet again on Friday.”

\--

Damen had left feeling confused, and feeling more strange than he’d anticipated. He’d expected to be fine with leaning on someone else for cash, but when it came down to it, he was disquieted by the experience.

It was one thing letting Nikandros buy him a coffee. It was another thing letting a stranger buy him an expensive suit.

The only thing keeping his mind at ease, and keeping him from saying no, was that he’d agreed to it. It was Laurent who sought him out, and it was Laurent who offered, and it was Laurent who wanted this. Therefore, shouldn’t he be okay with it?

\--

The suit shopping had been difficult. It had been years since Damen wore a suit, and even longer since he’d bought one.

“It’ll be on Laurent de Vere’s tab,” he’d told the man behind the counter.

This had earned a mistrusting glare from the man, who proceeded to pick up the telephone next to the register and say, “And will Mr. de Vere confirm this if I call?”

“Yes,” Damen said back, feeling like a con artist.

The man did, in fact, call Laurent, and after a short conversation, his demeanor changed entirely. He’d gone from cold and mistrusting, to open and admiring. “Oh of course! What are your measurements? Nevermind that, I’ll be happy to take them for you.”

Once Damen was measured, he was shown various designs and colors of blazers. “The red one would suit your complexion, but nothing beats a classic. Don’t you agree? You must agree.”

“Actually, I like the red,” Damen said, pointing to a red blazer and slacks, folded up just so he could get a feel for the colors.

“Of course! Like I said, it’ll match your complexion and really flatter you.” The man quickly unfolded the blazer and started to put it on Damen, who stiffened underneath the touch.

Once it was on, however, and he was looking at himself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror, he decided it was worth it. “Yeah,” he said, “I like this. This is my choice.”

“Excellent! Pair it with a nice white or black shirt, and you’ll have an entire look. Reminds me of John Boyega’s look for the red carpet.

Damen turned to get a look at his backside, and nodded. “I’ll buy this one, then.”

“Yes, of course.”

The man rang Damen up, and when he saw the reciept, almost had a heart attack. He felt inclined to return it, to say no thank you and apologize to Laurent for getting such an expensive outfit. But then, he thought back to Laurent, waving him off and telling him, as casual as if he’d been discussing the weather, that he’d pay for it. Maybe that much money was pocket change to a guy like that. He certainly had the attitude for him. He hadn’t even given Damen a budget.

He left with the outfit, and promptly sent an email to Laurent stating he’d made the purchase. He casually left out how much it cost, not wanting to relive seeing that receipt.

Within an hour, he’d received an email back.

_Excellent. I was worried you’d insist on showing up in jeans and a tshirt._

Damen rolled his eyes. What a brat.

\--

When Friday came around, Damen was ready. He was dressed well in advance, waiting on Laurent to show up and take him to the event, of which he knew nothing about. He had no idea where it would be, who would be there, or what they’d be doing. Suddenly, it all seemed very asinine and ridiculous.

But before Damen could ponder that any further, there was a knock at the door. Damen, dressed in his white shirt and red blazer and trousers, answered the door. He was greeted promptly with a sweep of Laurent’s gaze, and an uncaring stare.

“This is where you live?” he asked.

“Yes, problem?” Damen asked back, raising an eyebrow.

“No, I suppose not. Either way, let’s go, the car’s waiting.” Laurent quickly turned away, and led the way down the apartment stars and outside the building, into the parking lot.

Laurent’s care was a nice one. By far the nicest Damen had ever seen in person. He imagined, for a second, how much it cost, and promptly shoved that idea out of his head. They both got inside, Laurent in the driver’s seat, and Damen in the front passenger.

They drove in silence for a long while, Damen taking in the smooth leather of the seats, the soft pop music that played over the speakers, and the way it felt like midnight inside the heavily tinted windows. It was fairly intimate, he thought, and wished it was with someone he actually liked.

Eventually, Damen spoke, in a quiet voice, “So… what convinced you to become a sugar daddy?”

Laurent glanced over at him, with dark eyes that shone of something unsure. As if he was approaching some strange beast, instead of being asked a simple question. Eventually, he expression softened back to his cool glare, and he looked back to the road. “What convinced you to become a sugar baby?”

“I’m broke,” Damen confessed, “I need money.”

“Well then, unfortunately, we make a good fit.”

Damen rolled his eyes, and kept quiet after that.

Eventually, they pulled up to a large country club, littered with people coming in and out. Apparently, they had arrived right in the thick of things. Laurent guided them inside, and was promptly greeted by a flood of people, all who knew Laurent on a first name basis. All of them were eager to meet Damen, but Laurent shrugged them off with a quick, “He’s my new boyfriend. Excuse us.” Some people even tried taking pictures of them together, which really put Damen off his game.

Laurent guided him to the middle of the parlor, where he sat down on a sofa and engaged in conversation with a muscular woman who spoke with a thick accent. Damen sat beside them, and made no effort to get involved in their conversation.

Instead, a petite red-haired boy sat beside him, crossing his legs and leaning back against the sofa comfortably. He was young, probably only eighteen or nineteen, with a shiny, pretty face and gorgeous eyes.

“So you’re Laurent’s new man?” he asked.

“Yes,” Damen answered cautiously, “That’s true.”

“I see. I’m Ancel. Nice to meet you,” he said with a mischievous smile.

“Ancel,” Laurent said, turning over to see them both, “Why don’t you and Damen fetch something to drink? I’ll be here talking to Halvik.”

Ancel grinned wider and wrapped himself around Damen’s arm like a child would to a toy. “Of course. Come on, Damen, I’ll show you the way to the bar.”

Damen reluctantly got up, and followed Ancel as he clung to his arm. They both got a beer, which seemed ridiculous, as he barely seemed of age.

“So,” Ancel eventually asked, sipping his beer with a hint of flirtation in his voice, “What’s it like dating Laurent?”

“Um,” Damen tried to think of something, anything. “Well, he loves giving gifts,” he settled on.

“Oh, I bet,” Ancel chuckled.

Damen looked into the crowd, uncomfortable. He could see Laurent watching them, a glimmer of humor in his expression as he looked on, like he could see the awkward situation he’d been put in, and enjoyed it.

“Is he good in bed?” Ancel asked suddenly, and Damen’s head snapped back to look at him.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he smirked, “I’m not repeating myself.”

Damen touched the nape of his neck in a fit of stress. “Actually, we haven’t had sex yet. We haven’t been dating long.”

Ancel huffed. “That’s too bad. I was hoping for some gory details.”

Damen stood there awkwardly, and looked back to Laurent, who had looked away. But before Damen could look back to Ancel, he was turning around, and gesturing for Damen to come over. The amusement was gone from his expression.

Damen looked over to Ancel, and said, “I’m being summoned. I’ll uh, talk to you later, maybe.”

Before he could argue, Damen was hurrying off to Laurent’s side, like he could save him from further humiliation.

When he arrived, he was ushered to sit down, and Laurent sat as close as he could, until their knees touched.

“Ah, Laurent,” said someone behind them. They both turned, and Damen understood why he wanted someone close to him.

An older man, old enough to be their father, stood behind them, a young boy trailing behind him, cradling a can of soda. The boy couldn’t have been older than thirteen, and looked closer to twelve than fourteen. His son, Damen assumed.

Laurent had gone completely stiff beside him. “Hello, Uncle,” he greeted, tone cold and calloused. “I see you brought Nicaise.”

“Of course he brought me,” the young boy said behind the older man. He shoved the can of soda at Laurent’s uncle and stepped up closer to Laurent, himself. “Did you expect me to stay home? Sit on the couch and eat chips? We’re not all homebodies, you know. Who’s this?”

Laurent touched Damen’s shoulder, hand stiff and uncomfortable there. “This is my boyfriend, Damen.”

There was an unreadable expression that crossed his uncle’s face. It was taken back, curious, and angry all at once. But as soon as it had come, it was suppressed away, and replaced with something genial and kind. “Ah,” he hummed, “Damen, a pleasure to meet you. I’m Laurent’s uncle. You can just address me as your own uncle.”

Damen didn’t think he’d ever do that. “Pleasure to meet you too,” he said instead.

\--

Laurent’s uncle haunted them the entire party. Wherever they went, he would also go. Whoever they talked to, his uncle would also talk to. Even Nicaise, as young as he was, left to go find something more entertaining to do. Occasionally, Damen would see him glaring at them both from across the room.

The situation didn’t make much sense to Damen, and he assumed it was simply an overprotective uncle who couldn’t take the hint that his nephew wanted to be left alone. Speaking of which, Laurent most definitely wanted to be left alone. It wa obvious in the way he held himself around him. Stiff, uncomfortable, like his very presence was a toxin.

It was closer to eleven when they left, much to Lauren’t uncle’s dismay.

“Why don’t you come over to my place?”

Laurent looked at him with dark eyes. “No,” he said curtly. “I must see Damen home.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, very sure.” And without another word, Laurent was grabbing Damen’s hand, and guiding him out of the country club. It was the most intimate contact they’d made the entire night, and it, still, was stiff and repulsed. It was clear to Damen, at least, that Laurent did not like his uncle.

They drove back in silence, Damen dropped off outside the building. Laurent didn’t even wait until he was inside to drive off.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FIRSTLY, i would love to thank everyone for the kind comments, the kudos, and the bookmarks <3 I'm sorry this took so long but it's finally up! minor tw for mentions of incest.

“We’re going out tonight,” said Laurent over the phone, before Damen could even ask how he was.

A week had passed since the party, and Damen had heard little to nothing from Laurent. He almost wondered if Laurent had forgotten about him, and instead settled with some other sugar baby. If Laurent had decided he didn’t need a sugar baby, or if he’d found a genuine relationship.

The latter didn’t seem likely.

“Okay, where?” he asked, already fretting the idea of scrambling to get together a nice outfit for the occasion.

“A restaurant. Everyone will be there, so I expect you to be dressed your finest.”

He groaned internally, then wondered if the last event had not been “everyone”. “Okay. Will you be buying my outfit again?”

“Why? Do you need me to?”

He thought about that for a second, glancing back towards his closet and at the one or two nice shirts inside. He had been being sarcastic, but now that he thought about it, he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of Laurent buying him another outfit. “As a matter of fact, yeah, unless you’d rather me show up in what I wore last week.”

“That would be….disagreeable. Fine, It’s settled, I will take you shopping. Send me the name of your store of choice, and I’ll meet you there today at one.”

Laurent had hung up immediately, without giving Damen the chance to say “thanks” or even “okay”.

\--

The store was bustling and cramped, with pop music playing a little too loudly over the speakers. Laurent seemed to mind, as evident by the scowl on his face, and the way he went straight for a pair of jeans on a mannequin. He fingered the material and looked back at Damen. “It’s a little, I don’t know,  _ cheap _ . Don’t you think?”

“This is expensive for me,” Damen protested, “Besides, I like the styles.”

Laurent rolled his eyes and followed Damen as he browsed. Every now and then, his head would turn and he’d glance at a shirt or a pair of pants. Eventually, he asks, “Does this place have a youth section? Nicaise would like this stuff.”

“He’s, what, your cousin, right?” Damen asked, realizing he’d never fully asked what his relation to the boy was.

“Sort of. He’s adopted.”

“Oh.” Damen looked over at Laurent, to see him eyeing a pair of shoes. “Must be hard on him.”

Laurent didn’t answer, but instead picked up a shoe box underneath the display. “I’ll buy these for him,” he said, hugging the box to his chest.

Damen smiled, deciding Laurent might not be completely the venomous snake he initially took him for.

“Hey,” Damen asked, holding up a pair of jeans, “Would these be appropriate for the dinner?”

Laurent titled his head and gave them a good look. “No. But I’ll buy them for you anyway.”

His expression turned to one of shock, eyebrows shooting up towards his hairline. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. Your wardrobe is...disappointing. And those are decent.”

He rolled his eyes, and tucked the jeans under his arm. So, Laurent might still be the venomous snake, just one with a soft underbelly.

As it turns out, shopping with Laurent was a very rewarding experience. Every few steps, he would hold up a shirt or a pair of jeans before passing it off to Damen, saying, “The material is terrible, but the color suits you,” or “They’re cheaply made, but the design is flattering.”

By the end of the shopping trip, Damen’s arms were full of clothes, and Laurent still clung to the pair of shoes for Nicaise. They purchased five shirts, six pair of pants, and two pair of shoes, and Damen took extra precaution not to see or hear the total when Laurent paid.

They had put everything in the trunk of Damen’s care -- minus Nicaise’s shoes, which Laurent clung to like they might be snatched from him at any moment -- when Laurent asked, “Is there anything else you wanted?”

They were both leaning against the car, like one might do if you were chatting with a close friend, instead of your sugar daddy. Damen looked away. There was one thing that he wanted, but it was expensive, and he wasn’t sure how to ask.

“Oh, out with it,” Laurent hissed, “I can see it in your face that there’s something.”

“A guitar?” he blurted out.

Laurent just shrugged. “Sure. You play?”

Damen gave a small smile, a little embarrassed. “Yeah, but my brother broke my last one, so I kind of need a new one, and he refuses to pay for it.”

He hummed. “I see.” Then, he folded his arms over his chest and shrugged. “Find one you want online and email it to me. I’ll purchase it.”

“Really?” Damen’s eyes lit up like he’d been met with the cutest puppy he’d ever seen.

“Sure. But just so you know, this may come back to haunt you.”

His expression fell, if only a little. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure yet. Maybe I’ll demand you play at an event.”

Damen laughed. “I wouldn’t be opposed to it. I’ve played in front of audiences before.”

“Is that so?” Laurent asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re a performer?”

He shrugged. “Me and my brother always wanted to start a band. Needless to say, it never happened.”

Laurent hummed, looking at nothing in particular, lost in thought. “I used to dance,” he said quietly, as if it were a secret.

“Really?”

He nodded. “I haven’t in years, though.”

“Why not?”

Laurent shrugged, and eventually looked up at Damen. “Why did your band never work out?”

Damen took a deep breath, and let out a deep sigh. “Long story short? My brother stole my fiance.”

He looked shocked, if only for a second before he cooled his expression and composed his voice. “And here I thought  _ I  _ was the one with drama.” Laurent didn’t elaborate, and Damen didn’t ask him to. Instead, Laurent added after a moment, “The dinner is at six. I’ll text you the address of the restaurant. I expect you there in one of the nice outfits I bought you, and I expect you there on time.”

“And in return you’ll buy my guitar?”

He rolled his eyes. “And in return I just bought you five nice outfits.”

\--

“Which shirt do you like better?” he asked, lowering the phone so Nikandros could see his torso, where he wore one shirt, and held up another.

“Uh. I don’t know. The white one? White goes with everything, right?” Damen could see him scratching his head on the other end of the video call.

“You sure it’s not too simple? Or, what if I order spaghetti and spill it on my shirt?”

“Then you get your sugar daddy to buy you a new shirt.”

He huffs and angles the phone so Nikandros can see his face again. “You’re not helping.”

“I just don’t see why you care so much about what the guy thinks. You told me earlier you don’t even like him that much.”

“I agreed to be a good boyfriend to his friends and family.”

Nikandros rolled his eyes, looking very much unamused. “I’m honestly concerned.”

“It’s either sugar daddies or stripping. Your choice. Now, which shirt?”

He sighed. “The red one.”

\--

Damen had googled the restaurant before he left, and it left his eyes practically popping out of his head. He’d never been anywhere that fancy, never even dreamed of it. Currently, he could barely afford fast food, and now he was expected to join his sugar daddy to a dinner at one of the most expensive restaurants in Paris.

Oh god, what had he gotten himself into.

By five o’clock, he was a ball of nerves, and his call to his friend didn’t ease him any further.

By six, he was inside the restaurant, being guided back to a long, rectangular table bustling with people. It was only half full, but still managed to be clanging with laughter and chatter. Laurent sat in the middle of the table, two empty seats on either side. He was chatting with a boy across the table, who looked neither interested nor delighted to be talking with him.

When Damen approached, he was greeted with a stiff smile from Laurent. “Hello,” he said to Laurent, looking at the boy across from him. Now that he was closer, he could see that the boy was slightly younger than Laurent, but significantly older than he remembered Nicaise looking. Perhaps seventeen. Nineteen at the oldest.

“Hello,” Laurent said over his shoulder. “I got my hopes up again and hoped you’d stay home.”

“You asked me to come. Again.” Damen said, sitting down beside him a bit awkwardly, like he was doing something he shouldn’t by sitting down beside him.

The boy across from Laurent looked perturbed, eyebrows cocked in confusion.

Laurent, upon seeing the expression, hummed. “Aimeric, this is my boyfriend, Damen. I asked him to join us this evening. Damen, this is Aimeric. He’s the son of a family friend.”

Damen smiled, a little cautiously, at Aimeric. “Hi, nice to meet you,” he said, and reached over to shake his hand.

Aimeric, after some deliberation, met him halfway, and shook his hand warily. “You’re Laurent’s boyfriend?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“As of how long?” he asked, “I haven’t heard of you before.”

Damen released his hand, and looked back to Laurent, who answered, “A few weeks.”

“Oh,” Aimeric said, not looking at all convinced.

Laurents uncle came in not much longer with Nicaise in tow, and was welcomed with hugs and greeting from all around. Damen noted, however, that both Aimeric and Laurent greeted him with nothing at all, and instead focused on their drinks, or their silverware, or anything but Laurent’s uncle.

He came around, touching a hand to Laurent’s back as he said, “Hello, Laurent. I see you brought your...friend.”

Damen frowned, and Laurent squirmed away from his uncle’s touch like it was a hot iron instead of a hand on his back.

“Yes,” he said quietly, voice almost a whisper, “So you best keep your hands to yourself.”

Laurent’s uncle gave Damen a hard look, while he glanced helplessly between Laurent and his uncle. He didn’t understand their dynamic, and wondered if he ever would. “I see,” his uncle eventually said. “Nicaise, sit, you can hang out with your cousin and his...friend.”

Nicaise lit up, but quickly stifled it when his gaze settled on Damen. There was apprehension in his eyes, like Damen was someone that couldn’t be trusted.

He smiled, hoping to calm his fears by seeming as harmless as possible. This earned a scowl.

“Nicaise,” Laurent said, “You know Damen. You met him at the party last week?”

“Yeah,” Nicaise said, still eyeing Damen like he would whip out a weapon at the slightest drop of defenses. Eventually, however, he looks away, and a waitress comes over to pour him water. Damen figured he was shy, or perhaps socially anxious.

The dinner had gone off without a hitch. Mostly. Laurent made conversation with everyone at the table at least once, and somehow managed to introduce Damen to all of them. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever remember all their names or faces, but he tried to make mental note of all the people Laurent spoke to more than once.

Laurent made it a point to order the most expensive vegetarian dish on the menu, while Damen ordered the cheapest. Laurent had leaned in when he ordered, saying, “My uncle’s paying, so don’t be afraid to get whatever you want.” He didn’t change his order.

At one point in the dinner, Laurent leaned over to whisper ot Nicaise, loud enough for Damen to hear, “I have a gift for you. Don’t tell Uncle.”

This caused his face to light up with a bright smile. “What is it?” he asked, just as quiet as Laurent, which Damen realized was too quiet for his uncle to hear at the head of the table.

“Nothing special,” Laurent assured him, “Just something I found while out shopping.”

Nicaise tried biting back his smile as he pushed his food around his plate with his fork.

At another point in the dinner -- and this part caused a great disturbance for Damen -- Laurent excused himself to the bathroom. As soon as he’d left, Aimeric was leaning across the table to whisper to Damen, “You know he had  _ unnatural  _ feelings for his brother, right?”

Damen frowned. “I didn’t know he had a brother.”

Aimeric scoffed. “Just goes to show,” he said, sitting back in his chair to continue his dinner.

When Laurent came back, nobody said anything about the comment Aimeric made. Not even Damen, though he had half a mind to.

All in all, it was as awkward as it was stuffy, especially after Aimeric’s gossipy comment. Damen didn’t believe him, but it left him looking around, wondering about something he hadn’t thought about until now.

Where were Laurent’s parents? His brother?

It was nine when Laurent and Damen left. Some people had already taken their leave, while others straggled around. They lingered outside, Laurent leaning against his car thoughtfully. He looked towards the door of the restaurant, and away from Damen.

“Aimeric told me--”

“Whatever Aimeric told you isn’t true,” he said calmly, still watching the door.

“I didn’t think it was. I just didn’t know you had a brother.”

Finally, Laurent looked over to Damen. His shoulders were stiff, and his eyes were void of emotion. His guard was up. “I don’t anymore.”

“What happened to him?” Damen asked cautiously, knowing he was stepping through a minefield.

“He died.” Still, Laurent was on high alert. Like Damen was going to hurt him.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago.” Once again, he looked away.

Damen bit his lip, knowing he shouldn’t ask for details. After all, they weren’t dating. They weren’t friends. Laurent bought him things, and in return Damen showed up as his guest to events. They were sugar daddy and sugar baby. That was all. He wasn’t entitled to Laurent’s life story.

“Your uncle seems to care about you,” he said carefully.

Laurent suddenly looked back, gaze hard and angry. “Don’t pretend to know anything,” he spat, tone venomous. “You don’t know anything about my life.”

If Damen had been walking through a minefield, he’d just stepped on a landmine.

“Right,” he said, nodding stiffly. “Sorry.”

He could see Laurent gritting his teeth, and without saying another word, Laurent turned and opened the door of his car. He climbed inside, turned the car on, and slammed his door behind him. He drove off quickly.

Damen sighed to himself, shaking his head as he got in his own car to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Secondly, I would like to let everyone know that I've opened writing commissions to the CaPri fandom! they are pay-as-you-can, and can be ordered via tumblr @lovely-laurent ! thank you for reading!


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